2022 has been an important year for me. I've struggled with my identity, travelled across the country (twice), ended a long-term romantic relationship and I've moved back to the house I grew up in.
This year I made an important decision: That I was going to love myself unconditionally.
It's the first time in my life I had even considered that type of thing a decision to be made.
While I did not consider myself unhappy, as I'm largely a glass-half-full kind of person, there was a source of unhappiness, or discontent, within me. For the previous 28 years of my life I had been Bowie who had done these things and been these places. A firefighter, a college athlete, a salesperson. I was someone who thought he was funny and kind. I liked to be a good worker and had a strong sense of right and wrong.
And while all those things were, and remain, true, I had no idea who I was. Within the resume of my existence, the credentials and certificates, there was a shadow of something invisible and unspeakable.
To describe it would mean that I could give it words. Which, until recently, I had no way of doing.
It was a pull in no particular direction.
Something telling me that this, whatever this might be, wasn't it. I could do more. I had more to give.
And the Bowie you might have met, talked with, or gotten to know was OK. Good, even.
But I made a decision in 2022.
I needed to look inward. I decided I was going to choose myself. Much of what I had done up to that point was in the name of putting myself in a situation where I would be of service to others. That service, being there for someone, was something that made me feel good. It just didn't foster a lot of self-reflection.
So I began treating myself like someone I loved. I went from being "how can I best be something for someone else" to "this is for me".
And my life changed, almost immediately.
Outwardly, no major changes were visible. I was a guy in a relationship with a job living his life.
Inwardly, my mind had become a welcoming home for thoughtful discourse, an optimistic friend looking for silver linings and a looped playlist of positive mantras. I didn't feel pushed or made to feel like I had to do something. I was in all of the same situations (financial, familial, emotional) that the old Bowie was in when he was worried, anxious and feeling behind. Yet all of it was OK. In fact, I welcomed it.
I can do this. I'm going to be fine.
My relationship ended. My job ceased occupying any extra space in my mind. I moved 3,000 miles for the second time in 12 months.
Along the way amazing information and circumstances presented themselves in manners that left me looking over each shoulder to make sure I hadn't been pranked.
I took those opportunities. Not because I had to or I was worried they would leave before I could think about it, but because they were what I wanted.
And I suddenly had an intuitive sense of what it was Bowie wanted.
Which brings us to 2023. An incredible year before it even begins.
My interests and passions have brought me to pursuing a cure for my Type 1 diabetes.
I've been reading, testing, sitting with and chewing on scientific literature for the past 6 months. The information I've gleaned from each rabbit hole that seemingly presented itself has fruited significant progress. Progress that is not recognized in the mainstream research community.
I've been dosing supplements, herbs, seeds and compounds. I've altered my diet. I tried something, ditched it and went back to try it again. My insulin usage has shrunk, then ballooned. I've had 3 months of being certain tomorrow was the day I said goodbye to diabetes forever. I've had 2 weeks where I was ready to give up.
2023 will be the year that all of this information, this testing and trialing comes to a head. I have the cure for diabetes. I'm not entirely sure what it looks like right now, or if it's ready for me to find it.
But it's here.
2023 knows it.
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